


Cursed Feelings

by Mental_Patient



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Episode: s06e03 Wedding in Red, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mental_Patient/pseuds/Mental_Patient
Summary: There's something about the Sheriff. 
Jane has to find out.





	

Against the distant sounds of crickets chirping and birds singing, comes the grim creak of a roof beam. Patrick Jane - consultant for the CBI - steps on the narrow plank while carefully maintaining his balance. A tumble down from this terrifying height would surely meet a fatal end. Wondering why he always gets held at gunpoint, Jane tries not to look down for he would likely lose his nerve. Three-piece suits are clearly not the right outfit in which to climb, the uncomfortable layers drag against his sensitive skin and the cold night air causes goosebumps to break out. He tries to regulate his breathing, nothing is going to happen. Lisbon will surely get help in time.

It's not yet his time to die, Jane reminds himself. Not when he is just getting so close to catching Red John - the serial killer who murdered his wife and daughter. He needs to get vengeance on the bastard.

"Uh, you know if there's a-a way down from here?" inquires he cautiously from Charlie - the groom's crazy older brother, who killed uncle Larry and tried to steal a bible. Well, granted, it was a priceless bible worth of at least half a million but still...

"We're gonna find a way down." declares Charlie darkly while ignoring the fact that it seemed like an impossible task since it doesn't look like there are any other stairways. Unless one jumped down. Jane glances nervously over the edge of the roof.

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of. Uh... " 

"Hey!" Suddenly a voice announces from the darkness. Jane startles and looks up. Also it's just his luck that he slips and looses his footing in the process. Heart in his throat he manages to grab onto the beam and stays barely hanging. He finally notices the Sheriff of Napa County pointing his weapon at Charlie around the rungs of the ladder.

"Drop the gun." Growls Sheriff Thomas McAllister threateningly at the suspect, who of course decides not to listen. While Charlie tries to take aim, the Sheriff already fires. It's clear who is at a disadvantage, Charlie gets a bullet in the chest and falls off the roof with a mighty gruesome thud. For a moment there is a deathly silence.

"Now he's talking directly to Jesus." Drawls a smirking McAllister and holsters his gun.

"Where— where did you come from?" Whispers Jane and tries to stop his voice from shaking. He succeeds, mostly. Feeling the sweat beading on his hands, one slips. Jane can feel the prickle on the back of his neck and tries to keep McAllister in his sight. He is after all one of the seven suspects for Red John. The Sheriff grunts, steps onto the creaking roof beam and walks smoothly across to Jane.

"The church keeps an extension ladder for tree trimming." explains McAllister, calm as you please. The man must have nerves of steel as he stands over Jane. The Sheriff's blue eyes glint in the moonlight and the brim of his hat casts a menacing shadow over his face. 

"Don't look down. Bad place for the spins," says the Sheriff roughly, "give me your hand." He reaches down with his left hand for Jane who hesitates but grabs the hand in the end. Jane could feel the safe warmth of his fellows strong hand while he pulled Jane up from a certain doom. Panting, Jane clings to the beam on his hands and knees.

"Let's go." says McAllister and pats Jane comfortingly on the back to get him moving.

"Good thing I ignored your request to stay away, huh? Guess I just felt obliged to keep an eye on you." adds the Sheriff when they stand securely in the church tower.

"Yeah. Why?" Jane eyes his companion suspiciously. It had previously turned out during an investigation that Red John may have acrophobia - a severe fear of heights. His main reason for coming to Napa on this case was to get information about the Sheriff - one of the suspects. While McAllister seemed to avoid heights at the beginning, he definitely doesn't fear them. Right now he seems to be on the clear. Unless the clue about Red John was just a misdirection or a way to get close to Jane's psychiatrist. Then it's back to square one.

"Truth is, I didn't trust ya. The way you forced your way onto the case here— it almost seemed like you had a hidden agenda."

"Ah, well, sometimes I give out mixed messages. It's one of my many failings." Jane misdirects, while carelessly shrugging his shoulders. There was definitely something off about McAllister. During their conversation Agent Teresa Lisbon manages to come through the trap-door.

"It looks like everybody's okay?" Worries Lisbon. Jane can still feel the adrenaline rushing through his blood but the steadiness of his limbs has already returned.

"Sure. He saved my life out there on the roof." Jane assures Lisbon patiently.

"My pleasure. I'm at your disposal anytime. I'll see you two downstairs." The Sheriff shakes hands with Jane while catching his eyes briefly and smiling out of the corner of his mouth. Jane swallows, feeling the unexpected tug in his stomach. Must be the almost falling to death experience. Must be. McAllister turns to Agent Lisbon and repeats the gesture. Out of nowhere comes the sound of wings flapping and birds squawking.

"Hey, get it out! Get it out!" Turns out the Sheriff does have something he's afraid of, thinks Jane as he crouches down.

"I didn't see that coming. I hate those things." Sighs McAllister as he goes down the steps. Jane looks after his retreating back. Lisbon glances at Jane. The rumpled look of his suit, messy blonde curls and deep blue eyes. Other than a scare, he seems to be generally fine. 

"You're not hurt?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Lisbon."

"Ha. Well, you missed all the action, you know." Teases Lisbon good naturedly. At the same time time she smiles a little.

"Oh, I did? Mm. Did you not see me out there on the roof? That was some action." Jane points at the aforementioned rooftop he never wishes to see again.

"This is different. It looks like we're going to be spending a little bit more time in Napa than we expected."

"Really?" Jane looks at Lisbon and rolls his eyes fondly. He has a feeling he knows what this is about.

This is just the Beginning, thinks Jane... 

After witnessing the wedding of his dear friends - Wayne Rigsby and Grace Van Pelt - Jane knew he had to find a distraction. While he was happy for the couple, he couldn't help but remember the tragic end of his marriage. Absently twirling his wedding band around his finger, Jane steps into a trail that lead through the forest. He still feels the anguish of losing his family, not a day goes by in which he doesn't mourn them. 

Some days it's worse than others - he is acutely aware of the void in his heart and the guilt eating him alive. Because it's his fault, his arrogance that led to this. Jane grits his teeth to hold back tears as he walks quietly. Wildlife buzzes around him, birds chirp, sun shines brightly, wind rushes through trees, there's a sweet fragrance in the air - red grapes possibly. It's too serene for his somber mood. Jane leans against a pine tree and closes his blue eyes. I'll rest for just a moment, he thinks and retreats into his elaborate mind palace. 

When it goes dark, Jane finds his way into a nearby bar. At first he follows the energetic sound of a piano and an angelic voice of a soprano. The wooden door creaks and for a moment he remembers the ground disappearing below his feet. Centering himself, Jane makes his way through the boisterous crowd, spilled beer and smoke filled room to the bar. Taking a seat on the chair he signals the bartender and asks for a scotch. 

Taking a look around, he mentally notes the drunks, bikers, couples among the people looking for a hookup and tourists. As far as he could see, there was nothing especially interesting. Until he sees someone unexpected - The Sheriff. He's in a ordinary black shirt and jeans with his favored cowboy boots, relaxing against the bar. In that moment McAllister turns rigid and glances around the room, their eyes meet...

(Not muscular but not soft, either. Short straight hair... a gentle voice. Rough, strong hands. He smelled of pine and nail and earth... )


End file.
